The Fall
by eloquentfever
Summary: Blaine Anderson will be perfect. He will no longer have a diseased body. He will fix it. He will be pure, pristine, beautiful and happy. Blaine's perception of himself is distorted and Kurt begins to realise this as he watches his boyfriend fall apart, physically and emotionally. Klaine.


_**warnings** for sick idealisation of perfection. possible character death (i won't tell you if/if not since this is a complete piece. it's almost like giving away a spoiler - you'll get why when you reach the end). body image issues. perfectionist!Blaine, self-loathing, language._

* * *

Title: The Fall  
Rated: +13 – language, body issues, self-loathing, perfectionist!Blaine  
Summary: Blaine Anderson will be perfect. He will no longer have a diseased body. He will fix it. He will be pure, pristine, beautiful and happy. Blaine's perception of himself is distorted and Kurt begins to realise this as he watches his boyfriend fall apart, physically and emotionally. Klaine.  
Genre: Drama

* * *

Blaine Anderson will be perfect.

He will no longer have a diseased body. He will fix his revolting, disgusting, diseased body. He will fix his revolting, disgusting, diseased personality. He will be pure, pristine, beautiful and happy. He will no longer be diseased. He will not risk it. He will do whatever it took to be perfect. He will be beautiful. He will be exactly like his model five-foot-nine slim-figured black-haired beautiful Mother. He will be as lithe, as articulate, as agile, and as graceful as she was with her long limbs and bubbly smiles.

Blaine stood up from his first position. The standard music was playing – which just happened to be _Phantom of the Opera_. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and he began to dance. His weight shifted from side to side as he tried to gain complete and utter balance of his body, soul and mind with each calculated, calibrated, rectified movement.

These were the movements he'd been doing for six years now. He stood on his heel once, twirled twice, and shuffled from side to side, keeping complete tabs of what he was doing to his arms. He stood on his heels again, pulling one of his legs upwards as he extended his hand to grab onto his foot, steadying himself. He counted the seconds for the little stretch, and just as he was switching his feet, a dull ache had filled his bones. He thought nothing of it, and picked up his left foot, still standing on his heel but somehow losing balance as his body fell straight into the wooden, hard side of his bed.

Blaine let out a curse under his breath as astonishment mounted in his chest. These were small little dances and stretches he'd done for years now, and had never messed up. He lay down, pressed against the foot of his bed, throwing off his white loafer and looking at his feet. He'd managed to break a nail, as blood oozed from the surface. A sudden fury replaced the astonishment. How stupid had he been to mess up that move? How imperfect? How bloody reckless?

Blaine stared at his foot for the longest of time, as if staring would heal up his injury.

"Blaine, get your fucking ass up!" Cooper called from the hallway as he passed by, barely noticing that Blaine was clutching his foot in pain more-so than he was in a stretch. Of course, his visiting brother did wonders for Blaine's mood as well, having to hear Cooper rave on his successes whilst Blaine stood there, reminiscing glory days at Dalton, where he was the most perfect thing in the world. He'd let the veil slip, and now, he had to wrap it around again as perfectly as the first time. "Supper's ready and Dad will kill you if you're not there in like five minutes!"

Blaine took a deep breath, frustrated as Cooper added on.

"And turn off that fucking music!"

Blaine extended his arm, reaching to shut off the music off his player. He placed his loafer back on his feet, trying to forget the injury existed as he stood on his feet. He slightly limped from one side because the pain burst from the other. The dull ache in his bone was not gone. He passed by his rigorous and ridiculous training regime he kept taped to his bedside. His scale was in the corner with just one Post-it note above it. His planner lay near his bed along with his already finished homework assignments for the next week.

Blaine had gone downstairs and was met by his exceptionally tall Father, Joseph Anderson. He'd placed a plate that was full of pasta and Blaine picked up his fork to prod at it. "Do you know how many calories are in this?" he said, with a voice that showed a hint of disgust.

Cooper rolled his eyes. "Would you stop it with that? Jeez. Every time I come here, no matter what Dad makes, you always act like it's going to kill you."

Blaine just shrugged, looking at the creamy pasta and putting his fork down, staring at it.

Joseph sighed. "Eat your damned food, Blaine," he said to his son in a frustrated manner. Joseph just looked back at Cooper. "He's always like this with his food. Blainey won't stop and enjoy any of his freaking meals, and has to pick it apart before he even thinks of eating it."

Cooper sighed, shaking his head. "Dammit, Blainey, every year I visit here, I get these urges to lock you up in a freaking mental asylum."

Blaine stayed silent and chose to survey his pasta with his fork. "Look at that. It's basically full of butter and milk and…" with every syllable, Blaine's face broke into even more repulse than previously.

"Is it gonna attack you, Blaine?" Cooper said in a slightly irritated voice.

"It's going to attack my waist." Blaine finally said, leaning back down towards his chair, trying to steady himself.

"Of course," Cooper said, sounding spiteful. "Pretty little Blainey wants to stay at the same weight like he has for _four fucking years_. People gain weight when they grow up, Blaine, but not you. No, not pretty little Blainey. You don't even want to lose it. You just want to stay at that same freaking number for the rest of your miserable life—"

"Hey, hey," Joseph sent a look towards Cooper. "Leave Blaine alone, Coop. Yeah, sure, it's annoying but no need to cause a scene about it. Leave that for the acting business."

Cooper was still eying Blaine as Blaine finally took a bite out of his food. Joseph moved towards his son, placing a hand on Blaine's hair. Blaine didn't allow anyone to run their fingers through his hair because that will un-gel it, and leave it an unkempt mess. Blaine took the tissues from the box, folding it on his lap so that none of this will spill on his clothing. Cooper rolled his eyes.

"Now, you're just acting ridiculous," Joseph huffed at Cooper's facial expression.

"Come on. You always sided with me," Cooper stated in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Not because you were my favourite, just because I used to agree with you and no, I don't." Blaine would be lying if a little smile didn't find its way towards his lips. Cooper just shrugged as he tried to keep his cool. Dinner was a short affair, with Blaine standing up again, and turning to leave just when Cooper finally said.

"Fine. I'm sorry. I won't mention your weight or how frustrated I get when you start complaining about the food again."

Blaine let a soft smile reach his lips. "Thank you," he said just before he left towards his room. He had bandaged his foot, leaned back on his bedside, and had fallen asleep shortly after writing his planning for the next day and placing it down beside him on the table.

That morning, Blaine weighed himself, saw the number hadn't changed and calmed down significantly. He turned around, picking off pressed and ironed clothing from his closet. A white shirt, with a black sweater, dark pants, and a red bowtie. He switched loafers, now wearing black ones, and had picked up two slices of toast, and an egg for breakfast. He managed to dodge both his Father and Cooper, as he left for school.

Walking through the hallways, Blaine was met with the gracious image of Kurt. He smiled softly at his lover, walking towards him. Kurt was beaming from ear-to-ear, causing Blaine to feel an eruption of love explode in his heart as he looked straight into Kurt's beautiful blue eyes. Blaine curled his lower lip inward. "Pick a number from forty to sixty."

Kurt's lips twitched as he answered immediately. "Fifty-four."

Blaine nodded, still staring at Kurt as Kurt began to speak. "I went shopping with Mercedes and I found an off-white shirt to go with the black pants you got me," Kurt said in a joyous manner, before his eyebrows furrowed, meaning a complaint will follow. "However, Rachel somehow decided that she was invited and had bought nearly twenty scathing sweaters, all with a picture of some sort of animal. I have completely lost my faith in the world."

Blaine chuckled softly, before he stared straight into Kurt's eyes. "You're amazing," he said in near worship.

Blaine then sighed, running his thumb across Kurt's shoulder, lucky they were one of the first people there which made it okay for Blaine to touch Kurt without being send into a dumpster. Strangely enough, Blaine hadn't been throwing around or slushied on at all. "You're so tall," Blaine complimented, eyes burning with some sort of worship.

Kurt chuckled, flattered. "And your height is adorable."

Blaine pulled his thumb away, looking at Kurt with big, puppy-dog like eyes. "My Mother was even taller than me."

"I never met your Mother." Kurt said in a matter-of-fact tone. "How tall is she?"

"Five-foot-nine," Blaine then looked straight into Kurt's eyes before he added on. "She's a model."

"Oh," Kurt said after a while, before coming to conclusions. "Models often have to go through go-sees around the world then. When is she coming back?"

Blaine shrugged and Kurt immediately got the implication of that. _'She might not come back at all'. _Kurt thought he'd hit a soft spot in Blaine's life, but as more often than not, Blaine's facial expression remained the same. Kurt half-expected him to explode with a sudden burst of fury, but Kurt had been wrong he supposed. Blaine didn't even seem upset at all.

"Blaine?" Kurt stated just as they walked to their class. "You're limping."

"I hurt myself," Blaine scrunched up his nose in a thought of his bloodied toenails in place of his perfectly manicured pedicure. Blaine did not enjoy the blood at all, and harboured an extensive hate for seeing any kind of wound or injury. "I was dancing."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. So far, in the whole year and a half that Kurt had known Blaine, Blaine had his boxing and dancing sessions nearly every night, but he'd never hurt himself. "Were you trying something new?" Kurt inquired, just out of curiosity.

"No," Blaine said, shaking his head, but now, his eyes were looking darker, as if he didn't want to talk about it at all. Kurt got the hint without saying another word as they both walked towards their first class, which they coincidentally had together along with Santana. During class, Kurt watched as Blaine winced at random times, mind clearly on something else and that was enough to make Blaine drop his pencil a few times. Kurt raised an eyebrow, but Blaine just turned his head away. Kurt wondered how bad the injury was.

Kurt figured out his answer during Glee.

"Okay, guys, follow Mike's lead," Mr Schue said as he placed on some music. First, Blaine was perfect in his dancing, as per usual, and Kurt had almost missed the common fluid movements from how much he'd been looking at Blaine, but when Mike had twisted – something so simple that even Finn did it properly, Blaine had fallen straight on his knee, which made him groan as his hand went towards his diseased knee. Blaine stared down at his foot as if it was offending him by just existing. _Disgusting. Revolting. Diseased. _Blaine's mantra ran in his head as he looked down at his legs .

Blaine's hand extended towards his bag. This time, Kurt walked over there, getting the bag for Blaine. Blaine seemed nearly spiteful as he took the bag from its strap, opening it up to look at its contents.

"Are you okay, Blaine?" Mr Schue finally asked. "You haven't fallen before. Did you—?"

"I'm _fine_," Blaine said a little forcefully. He threw off his loafers. His toes were bandaged. Each toe separated wrapped around and the light layer of gauze joined at Blaine's ankle. Actually, the bandage work made Kurt believe it almost wasn't the first time that Blaine had hurt his toes.

"You didn't tell me about that," Mr Schue finally said, looking at it and leaning down towards it. "It's bleeding through your gauze."

Blaine didn't seem to mind that, looking at the base of his feet. Mr Schue can see what he was looking at right now.

"I sprained it," Blaine said, noting the bruising on the base of his feet as he pressed his fingers across to see what kind of damage he had. By then, Puck was gone and returned after a few moments, slamming an ice-pack in Mr Schue's hands.

"It's a light sprain," Finn muttered, grinning. "I know all about that shit too."

"Finn, language," Mr Schue gave him a leveled look as he told Blaine to hold it against his ankle for now. "Does it hurt much or—"

Blaine's voice was thick and harsh as he said, "I'm _fine_, Mr Schuester."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the amount of ice in Blaine's voice. "Just go on," Blaine finally said.

"I'm not sure if that's appropriate—"Kurt was cut off by Puck.

"Hummel, you do know that he needs to ice that for twenty to thirty minutes anyway, right? Just let him ice it and you can give your boyfriend star treatment when we're done." Puck said and Kurt looked at Blaine, whom just nodded his head. Blaine almost seemed like he didn't want to exist with how he was looking down and refusing to meet anyone else's eyes.

"Fine." Kurt stood up. "Blaine, call me if you need me, okay?"

"I'm _fine_," Blaine repeated in a matter-of-fact voice that was louder and icier than before. Kurt turned around, knowing not to deal with Blaine in this state. Blaine looked down at his body. _Disgusting. Revolting. Diseased._ He ran a finger down his ankle, and then leaned backwards.

After the initial twenty minutes of Glee, Rory had gone off and called Coach Beiste, whom came with Sue Sylvester and inspected the sprain.

"Not too bad," Beiste finally said. "Light sprain. Not too swollen. Does it hurt bad?"

Blaine shook his head but Beiste raised an eyebrow. "Hey, Sue, have one of them ankle braces?" apparently, at least it was a common injury, so they were prepared. Sue got Rory to go get some from her cupboard and the frightened exchange student practically ran out of the doorway. Beiste looked back down at Blaine's foot. "Got any Advil, Will?"

"I am _not_ putting that in my body," Blaine hissed.

Rory came back with an elastic wrap and a brace as Beiste looked back down at Blaine's foot. "I'm gonna put this compression here," Beiste said as she wrapped it around. "It doesn't look too swollen or anything but better safe than sorry."

Blaine didn't say anything as she placed the brace on his foot. "Do you think you need crutches too?"

Blaine shook his head. All Kurt can focus on was how dark Blaine's eyes were as she helped him up. Blaine was supporting himself on his feet, but she looked like she was still considering getting him braces. "You sure you're alright now, Anderson?"

Blaine nodded his head, looking down at his feet. "I'm fine," he said, voice still as hard as a rock.

"Let me drive you home," Kurt offered but Blaine just gave him a dark look that told him not to do anything. Kurt finally couldn't take it. "What is your _problem_? Blaine, we're trying to help you. If this is about us potentially thinking that you're weak or that you need our help constantly, then stop thinking that way, Blaine. Don't make this harder on yourself than it already is."

Blaine didn't seem like he liked that. "Kurt, do you even know me?"

Kurt bit down his lower lip. "Blaine, of course, I do. You're just in pain. Just take a little bit of the Advil and—"

"No," Blaine refused. "I will _not_ take a little bit of Advil."

"You are being ridiculous," Kurt complained as he helped Blaine up from the chair. Blaine took it even though his eyes darkened even more. "Come on. Let me drive you home."

Blaine said nothing as he followed Kurt. Kurt tried to support him but Blaine wouldn't have it, choosing to limp as he grabbed his bag and walked out with Kurt. Kurt stared back and forth from his boyfriend and from their destination. The car ride to Blaine's house was silent. When Kurt walked into Blaine's house with him, he realised that even the house was silent.

Kurt smiled at Blaine and then gestured to Blaine for a hug. Blaine finally gave in, hugging Kurt back but almost lifelessly as Blaine pressed his head against Kurt's neck. "You're so tall," he said it vacantly this time. There was no jealously. Nothing. Just an observation.

The next time Kurt walked inside of Blaine's room, he heard the roar of the water. Apparently, Blaine had left the compression and brace out. His feet were probably not bandaged. Kurt saw that the kit was out, meaning that Blaine would clean up his cuts and bandage his toes before he placed the compression and brace on. Kurt noted that Blaine's laptop was open.

Kurt shouldn't but he sat down and browsed through Blaine's history, making him roll his eyes. Like Finn, Blaine didn't erase his history. Then again, Finn was using a household computer. Blaine's laptop was password protected. Kurt scrolled through two days' worth of history, stunned as he shut off the tab and sat down on the bedside. He saw Blaine leave the bathroom, towel on his body. Kurt smiled at him. "I know you told me to come by an hour from now, but I'm not busy now."

Blaine smiled at him, but it was just a lifeless flash of one as he sat down beside Kurt, leaning down to pick off something from the drawer – which Kurt saw were white roses and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. "Oh," Kurt said, taking them. "Are these tree roses?"

Blaine nodded his head, smiling softly. "Off with your head, Kurt," Blaine gave him a small playful push as he made a small Alice in Wonderland reference.

The fact that the roses were white made Kurt smile. "I suppose now we can paint the roses red."

Kurt watched Blaine shut the door, lock it and pull off his towel. "Oh, eye candy," Kurt joked.

"Now that we actually had sex," Blaine ran his hand down Kurt's side, and down to his thigh. "We can actually have make-up sex."

"Oh, I like the sound of that," Kurt finally agreed.

Just before Blaine got on top of Kurt, Kurt paused, running a finger down Blaine's chest. "Blaine," Kurt suddenly began, staring deep into Blaine's eyes. "Your ankle—"

"—is fine," Blaine said, cutting it off shortly and saying it in a quick voice. Kurt didn't want to cause another fight as he nodded his head. Blaine climbed on top of Kurt, kissing him, exploring his tongue with his body.

Kurt found himself leaving just before dinner, with the roses and box of chocolates in his hand, seventy-five percent cocoa chocolates. Kurt's mind was still clouded with what he'd seen. When he walked home, he passed by Sam who just smirked at him. "Blaine?"

Kurt had almost forgotten about the roses and chocolates he was carrying as he nodded his head, going upstairs. He placed the roses away and the chocolates as well, and opened up his laptop. He searched for the words that were plaguing Kurt's mind.

_…involves one or more bones in a limb being broken and then two separate parts of that bone being slowly pulled apart…_

_…some people may find the pain unbearable…_

_…whilst there are very few reports of serious injury of limb loss, it is a possibility with this type of surgery…_

Kurt fell backwards as Burt walked inside; looking at what he was looking at before raising his eyebrow. "Kurt, you better not be thinking about shit like that. You're tall enough without chopping your bones off for surgery just so you can gain a few inches."

"It's not me," Kurt said humourlessly. "It's _Blaine_."

"Have to admit, he's short, yeah, but it's not so bad. It doesn't mean he should chop off his bones just to gain one or two inches. It ain't worth the pain." Burt shook his head. "Kurt, you sure Blaine's all right in the head?"

Kurt stared back at his Father as he said in the most honest voice he cold, "I'm beginning to doubt it."

* * *

It was just before dinner time. Blaine knew it was stupid and unwise, but after going a day, he couldn't take it anymore. He threw off his brace, following the compression, shutting the door, and placing his music on the lowest volume he could whilst still hearing the words. He stared down at his bandaged feet, and began. He can do this. He told himself, as he steadied himself, placing a foot in front of the other. He stretched for a moment, pulling his leg over his back and allowing his hand to balance him. He switched again. It was all fine until then and then he decided to twirl on his heel, which landed him straight into his bedside, plunging in deeply. Blaine's feet were swollen again and more bruised, but Blaine got up, ignoring the ache in his left knee.

Blaine pulled himself towards the mirror and tried another stretch, which was like Hell reincarnated in his feet. He can barely stand, much less stretch. All of these movements were stressing on pain in his ankles, joints and knees until he could not take it much longer. His left knee was swollen. He lay on his bed, before replaying the music and finishing off when he'd started. By then, he was in such a great deal of pain he couldn't dare move, but he finished it. And he can do it tomorrow, and the day before. He was not weak. He was perfect. He had to be perfect. Blaine told himself, as he stood up, walking towards his exercise regime. He had a boxing class soon. Even Beiste said boxing was okay, just not for too long because he was ultimately standing on his toes and if he was switching legs instead of just repeatedly shadowboxing, it might not be smart.

"Blaine! Dinner!" he heard his Father call out.

Blaine wrapped his foot back, mostly so that his Father and brother wouldn't say a word.

"Going to LA soon," Cooper muttered. Blaine wasn't shocked at all as he nodded his head. Cooper was eying Blaine for a while. "Oh, and Dad's not serving up anything until your ickle baby girlfriend and him stop talking."

"My…" Blaine then realised what his brother meant. "…Kurt's here?"

Cooper nodded his head. "Yeah. Apparently."

Kurt walked inside of the room with Joseph following him. Joseph looking back at Blaine with a soft smile. Kurt sat down beside Blaine and Joseph sat down beside Cooper. "Why are you here?" Blaine said. "It's not that I don't appreciate you're here. It's short notice and—"

"Why do you want to cut open your bones so you can get taller, Blaine?"

Blaine stared at his Father and then back at Kurt, his mouth slightly open before he realised all those times he'd kept his laptop open. All of his tabs. His history was always there, every single bit of it, and then Blaine let out a soft chuckle. "Kurt, why were you looking at my laptop?"

Kurt's eyes hardened. "Because it wouldn't stop buzzing, Blaine."

Blaine was taken back by that comment as his eyes hardened. "Don't bring _him_ up."

Kurt looked at Blaine with such a solemn expression that Blaine almost thought that Kurt might just explode in front of him from horror and rage. "Blaine," Kurt's voice was reasonably calm. "Chandler's shorter than even you. He's about five-foot-six or five-foot-seven. You don't need to separate your bones so that they can grow. It's not worth month by month pain just so you can grow a few inches."

"You don't understand, Kurt." Blaine simply stated.

"Stop saying that," Kurt hissed. "And explain yourself, Blaine. Unless your sudden clumsiness is linked to your height, which I doubt because Finn's about the most awkward thing in the world because of his height. Gymnasts have a height advantage from how short they are…"

"…so you've noticed it too," Blaine whispered. "I'm clumsier now."

"Blaine," Kurt's eyes were strong. "Who cares if you trip on air or if you're short? You don't look up cosmetic surgeries to make yourself taller."

"It's _my_ body." Blaine hissed. "Not yours. _Mine_. I can do whatever _I_ want with it. I can change it as many times as I want. _It's my body_."

"You aren't even done growing yet, kid," Joseph finally decided to include himself in the conversation. "Sides, I'm never gonna let you pay for something like that. I'm not gonna let you ruin yourself for a couple of months—"

"Auntie Taylor said she'll pay for me and sign the papers. I don't need you to say any yes. I'm doing it."

"_Blaine Everett fucking Anderson_," Cooper began and this time, Joseph let him talk. "You're not going to cut up your fucking leg, okay? You're not gonna put in some sort of fucking metal I don't know what so you can grow a few fucking inches taller and if you do it, I swear to any fucking deity that exists, that I will not ever talk to you in my life."

"Oh," Blaine began, voice a little icy. "I get two gifts out of this then?"

"Why you little—!" Cooper slammed his fists towards the table as he stood up, fist colliding with Blaine's. Cooper was shocked at his own response as Blaine's face already turned into a distinctive shade of purple. Cooper was pulled back by Joseph.

"That's fucking it!" Joseph snapped. "Cooper, you don't touch him like that, okay? I don't care what he's going to do or what he said or who he fucked, you're not gonna touch your little brother like that. _Understood_?"

Cooper slowly nodded his head.

Joseph moved towards Blaine and stared at his face. "How hard did he hit you? Do you need an ice pack for that?"

Blaine shook his head, silent. Kurt placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder but Blaine pushed Kurt off in a near-violent manner, sending Kurt nearly falling towards the floor. Blaine didn't even look sorry when he did that.

"Uh, I'll go get dinner." Joseph finally said. "Blaine, you sure?"

"I'm _fine_." Blaine said after a moment.

"You, apologise to your brother."

Just as Joseph turned to go to the back kitchen, Cooper stared at Blaine. "I'm sorry you're so fucked in the head," Cooper said, not sounding any apologetic at all. "Must be that bashing you took at the Sadie Hawkins, huh?"

Kurt didn't expect that to hit a soft spot as Blaine's eyes turned considerably softer with pain. Joseph returned, placing plates around. Kurt tried to break the tension as he stated. "I helped your Father with this, so it's significantly healthier than usual."

Cooper stabbed at a piece of lean turkey meat. Blaine played around with between the sweet potatoes, the turkey and the brown rice.

"Blaine, eat your food," Joseph sighed.

"He always does this," Cooper just snarled.

"_Always_?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

Blaine put down his fork, staring back from Cooper to his Father. His eyes met with Kurt. "I'm going upstairs," Blaine finally said.

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt said in a soft voice.

Blaine didn't do as much as look back at Kurt as he muttered "of course" in the most sarcastic voice ever whilst he left. When they were alone, Kurt looked back at Cooper and Joseph as he tried to answer Blaine.

"Always like his Mother," Joseph sighed overdramatically.

Kurt stared back at Joseph. "She's a model, isn't she?"

"You. Upstairs." Joseph called out to Cooper. Cooper left, grumbling something under his breath. Kurt hoped they weren't upstairs bashing each other's brains out. Joseph looked back at Kurt as he nodded his head. "Yeah, she's a model. Does Blaine talk about her a lot?"

Kurt shook his head. "Not very much. Barely. I heard him mention her only one. He said she's a model and she left. I asked him if she's ever coming back. He just shrugged."

Joseph shook his head. "Dammit, Blainey."

"What?" Kurt's voice was soft. "What's going on?"

Joseph shook his head as a soft, broken smile made its way to his face. "Blainey didn't tell you that Maria killed herself."

"But you just said that Blaine's like his Mother."

Joseph shrugged. "I know," he said, his voice a little softer now. "He is."

Kurt looked back up at Joseph's face. "…Mr Anderson, is Blaine mentally okay?"

Joseph laughed. Kurt calmed down.

Joseph's face then hardened as he shook his head. Hot tears streaming down his face. "I don't fucking know."

* * *

The next day at school, Finn slowly walked towards Blaine. "Hey," he finally greeted.

"Hi," Blaine said, not even looking up from the locker, as he picked up the books he needed for his first class. Finn shuffled awkwardly. Blaine stared at his locker. "Pick a number from forty-two to fifty-seven."

"Forty-nine," Finn replied without much thought to it.

Blaine didn't respond to that for a while before he looked back up at Finn with soft eyes. Finn then explained. "Look, dude. Kurt's sorry."

Blaine nodded his head slowly as Kurt then spoke. "Finn, leave him alone. I'll talk to Blaine on my own. Thank you for your effort to fix the relationship I should be fixing with my own two hands."

Finn nodded his head at Kurt and then left, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone. "Hey," Kurt said, looking at Blaine's face.

"Hey," Blaine said, voice vacant of any emotion. Kurt was yet to decide if that was bad or good.

"Can we not fight?"

Blaine turned around and nodded his head. Kurt smiled and hugged him as tightly as possible. Blaine placed his hands around Kurt's hips as Kurt placed his hands on Blaine's shoulder. The fact that it was still too early for many to be around meant that they weren't shoved around any locker at this point. Kurt pulled away to give Blaine a very soft smile. "Your bowtie is glowing ten shades of the rainbow."

Blaine looked down and the sweetest smile suddenly made its way to his lips. "Not red." Blaine's eyes were then on Kurt's bowtie.

Kurt looked down and blushed, realising his was red. "We complete each other."

Blaine just shrugged. "I suppose we do then."

Kurt poked at Blaine's side playfully. "Suppose?"

"Fine," Blaine looked at Kurt. "We do. Dear bowties, Kurt, you're completely and utterly in love with me," he said the last bit with such a playful tone that Kurt's eyes glittered into its soft blue colour as they both walked beside each other. Kurt wanted to hold Blaine's hand but he couldn't risk it since more and more people were coming so he just optioned for walking alongside of Blaine.

At dinner that day, Blaine sat down with Joseph serving up a low-fat pasta dish. "See?" he smiled at Blaine.

Blaine looked down at the plate. Cooper was gone and it was only Joseph and Blaine for now, like it always was most of the time. Empty vacant house with two people who were too different.

"Too much cheese," his voice was dull, as he picked up the spoon and ate a few bites before deciding no more, picking at vegetables and leaving. "I'm not hungry."

"How's your ankle?"

"It's fine," Blaine said, looking back at his Father for a moment and then walking upstairs. "I'm going to bed."

Joseph sighed. "Sleep well, Blainey."

* * *

Just as Blaine passed by Rachel Berry, he stopped to stare at her. She was swapping files and picking up a Spanish book. Blaine stared at her for a while before he said. "Pick a number from forty-four to sixty-five."

"I don't have time for this," she huffed before she finally said. "Fifty-nine. Why?"

"No reason," Blaine said, staring at her with soft, brown eyes.

"Blaine!" Kurt called out from behind him, smiling brightly at him. "How's your ankle, honey? Your limp is getting worse."

Blaine didn't have the heart to tell Kurt that he was only limping worse because he insisted on sticking to his gym and dance schedule as vigorously as he could. He doubted only had a mild sprain, remembering that he had to sneak downstairs at two am to get an ice pack for his ankle.

"My toenails are broken and I sprained my ankle. I think I'm entitled to my 'I'm exhausted' days," Blaine said with a soft smile. _I'm disgusting. I'm diseased. _"Thanks, Kurt."

"For what?"

"Being amazing and caring about me," Blaine finally concluded.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. Usually, a question about Blaine's ankle would send him angry, but he nodded his head. "Well, I do love you," he reminded him.

"I love you too," Blaine answered, voice soft. Kurt couldn't shake the feeling that Blaine only said those words was because he was as tired of the fighting as Kurt was, not because he truly meant each and every word. Kurt smiled and Blaine walked alongside of him.

"Pick a number from fifty to seventy."

Kurt seemed to think about this one. "Fifty-four."

"You picked that one already," Blaine said in a teasing tone.

Kurt wondered why he'd never asked Blaine why he wanted those numbers, but he didn't bother as he finally said. "Fifty-two."

Blaine nodded his head. That moment, Kurt watched as Blaine was slushied by a nearby jock. That slushie was so unexpected to the unbalanced, newly clumsy Blaine that he fell over his swollen left knee, gasping at the sudden feel of iciness and the sudden sharp pain jutting from his bones. The sharpness rested to a dull ache as Kurt helped Blaine.

"Oh my Gaga, Blaine, are you okay?" Kurt said, eyes on Blaine's feet.

"I'm _fine_." Blaine said, voice a little raspy.

"Blaine. You need to go see the nurse. Come on." Kurt said, pulling a hand on his shoulder before Blaine can say a word. Kurt looked at his boyfriend, where sudden contempt was rising into those dark eyes, but he kept his lips tightly shut because he knew if he'd scream, he'd probably be cursing Kurt's very existence.

Kurt knew that too and his stomach sloshed with discomfort.

* * *

Kurt knew he shouldn't be clutching the box of healthy vegan cookies in his hand to take to Blaine but he couldn't help himself. Blaine was acting strange. It would be best to break it all together but Joseph's words still rung in Kurt's mind; that Blaine was just like his suicidal Mother.

Kurt walked upstairs, and heard soft music coming from Blaine's room. Phantom of the Opera. Kurt smiled softly as he opened the door, but to his shock, saw Blaine standing there on his tiptoes with much struggle. The bandages still on his feet but his brace and compression off, as Kurt stared at Blaine self-sabotaging himself. Kurt didn't know what happened. He dropped the box of cookies and it made a sound. Blaine was so unaware of this that he almost fell over.

Kurt wouldn't let Blaine fall as he dove to catch him from the fall.

Blaine looked back up at Kurt. "Get out, Kurt," he coldly stated. "Get out of my room."

"Blaine, what the hell were you doing?" Kurt allowed both the anger and confusion spill in his words.

Blaine stood up again, as he sat down on his bedside, looking down at his lap. "Please leave my room, Kurt. Let's talk anywhere but here."

Kurt slowly nodded his head and left the room. Blaine followed slowly afterwards, brace and compression intact as Blaine shut the doorway behind him. "Your pants are tight at the knee." Kurt finally stated. His normally slightly loose pants were pressing tightly on his left knee, almost as if they didn't fit.

"Well, that knee is swollen." Blaine whispered.

"Blaine, what's happening to you?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know," Blaine whispered.

"That's a lie."

"I'm disgusting."

Kurt's eyes were thrown by this harsh truth as Blaine stared back at him. "I'm disgusting. I'm revolting to look at. I'm hideous and I'm diseased. I'm sick, Kurt. I'm sick."

Kurt shook his head. "You're perfect to me, Blaine."

"No," Blaine shook his head. "I'm not perfect, not yet, but I will be Kurt. You won't leave me, right? I'll be perfect."

Kurt's mouth was agape now. "Blaine, you…" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You have an unhealthy obsession with this…ideal. Your Father told me you've had the same weight since you were a preteen."

Blaine slowly nodded his head.

Kurt slowly walked into Blaine's room as he looked back up at the wall. There used to be only one Post-it note, but now as he stared down, he realised there was a multitude of Post it notes. Kurt looked at Blaine's scale. "You measure in kilos."

Blaine nodded his head. "See, Kurt? I'm not the same weight as I was when I was much younger."

Kurt looked back up at the Post-it note. First one, had only one number in dark red. 59. "What's that in pounds?" Kurt whispered.

"129.8." Blaine whispered.

Kurt slowly nodded his head, trying to not think of the fact that Blaine knew that immediately, and didn't even have to think. Kurt saw the small drawl of numbers. 61. 58. 56. 55 and…

"Fifty-four," Kurt said the last bit out loud.

"Pick a number from forty-two to sixty," Blaine reminded him as Kurt stared at the nicely drawn on number.

"What's that in pounds, Blaine?"

"118.8," Blaine whispered.

Kurt looked back at Blaine. "I have a really small frame, Kurt," Blaine finally said.

"Blaine, you don't need to weigh that little," Kurt said after a moment.

"I have a really small frame, Kurt." Blaine shook his head, looking down at his wrists. "My wrists are smaller than six inches."

Kurt picked up Blaine's hands, and just noticed how small Blaine's wrists were compared to his own. Blaine suddenly looked fragile and breakable, something he didn't really like to see. Blaine looked away from Kurt as Kurt laid a hand on Blaine's cheek.

"Blaine, I can break you."

Blaine laughed in a near maniac way, body shaking as he tried to step forward but ended up falling on his knees from the sheer amount of laughter that was erupting from his lips.

Blaine's laughter had slowly disappeared, leaving nothing but sobs raking from his body, as hot, fresh tears fell from his face. Kurt didn't quite understand what was going on, just that Blaine was in so much raw pain right now that all he can do was sit down and hug him as tightly as possible.

Blaine pressed his face against Kurt's chest.

Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's hair before Blaine pushed him off. "Don't touch my hair."

Kurt finally realised what Blaine was afraid of – ungelling his hair. At this very moment, all Blaine can think about was his hair. At first, he realised it was a small obsession, a fixation at prom, but no, Blaine's eyes were nearly animalistic now.

When Blaine had walked around with his hair ungelled, all for Kurt, it wasn't this bad. Something happened. Something happened that made Blaine want to strive for that ideal of perfection even more-so than usual. The Blaine he met at Dalton a few years back was more laid-back, less frantic, but this Blaine was slowly entangling an amount of fury and hatred for the world that seemed to show itself whenever he blew up with rage.

His Blaine was slowly slipping away through an invisible crevice of pain and misfortune.

"Blaine, you need to see a Doctor for this. This is ridiculous. This fixation will kill you." Kurt finally said, as Blaine shook his head.

"No, it won't," he said in a nearly crazed too. "I don't need a Doctor. There's nothing wrong with my body. There's nothing wrong with me. I'm _fine_."

"There's nothing wrong with your body, Blaine but there is something wrong with _you_." Kurt tried to explain. His blue eyes were torn as they glistened in both concern and sternness.

"If I'm so wrong for you, then why are you with me?"

Kurt's mouth dropped. He didn't expect Blaine to manipulate the situation like this. Kurt's eyes were soft. "Blaine, you'll always be amazing to me, but you're hurting yourself. I love the rest of you, but you have this one little flaw…"

"No," Blaine shook his head. "No, I don't. I'm _perfect_."

Kurt was thrown back by this as Blaine looked back at him with adamant eyes. "I'm perfect, Kurt. I'm _perfect_."

"Yes, you are," Kurt couldn't say anything else as his throat burned with fire. "You're perfect."

"I don't need a Doctor. I'm perfect," Blaine whispered the last part so low that Kurt felt tightness in his chest as Blaine hugged him. Blaine was running his hand down Kurt's hair and Kurt can barely care about that his hair was stylised as Blaine pressed his head against Kurt's chest. Kurt can't find the words to convince Blaine otherwise without making it seem like Blaine was completely flawed.

Kurt bit down his lip. "Yes, you are, Blaine," he whispered softly. "You're perfect."

* * *

Kurt had had enough.

He'd watch Blaine slowly strip down to nothing at all. Of course, his wound never healed because he kept on practicing and hurting it even more, adding assault to injury. Blaine's skin was a sickly pallor now and Kurt could see how bloodshot his eyes were. Blaine looked sick. Blaine looked completely and utterly sick. He also wore a large amalgamation of dark clothing and the same black beanie all the time that Kurt barely recognised him. Bowtie were abandoned for beanies.

The thing was that Kurt couldn't say anything without making it seem like he was calling Blaine completely flawed. Blaine looked like Hell all of the time, almost as if the more Blaine thought he was perfect, the sicker he looked.

When Blaine had skipped school for a few days, Kurt had had enough. He walked right up to Blaine's room, opening up the doorway and finding Blaine looking horrible, in bed, clothed in complete black, with his beanie on even as he slept. Kurt realised he probably was so tired he passed out without changing as he looked at Blaine, whom was now staring up at him with half-open eyes.

"Kurt," Blaine looked up at him, as his eyes swam with tears. "Can you keep a secret?"

Kurt nodded his head, sitting down beside him.

"Pick a number."

Kurt shut his eyes. "Sixty-five."

"Close." Blaine whispered, pressing his head against Kurt's thigh. "Seventy-two."

Kurt nodded his head, not really understanding the significance of the number. "Kurt, I'm disgusting. I'm revolting. I'm diseased."

Kurt looked down at Blaine. "You look sick, Blaine."

Blaine smiled softly as hot tears filled his eyes. "Kurt, can you keep a secret?"

"Yes, Blaine." Kurt said, placing his hand on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine chuckled, but it was almost soft as he told him. "Kurt, something's wrong with my body. I'm not perfect."

"Blaine, your body's perfect." Kurt didn't want to hear any of Blaine's self-image issues any longer. It killed him on the inside.

Blaine shook his head as he made Kurt place a hand on his swollen knee. "Kurt." He chuckled but it was sad. "Oestrogenic sarcoma."

Kurt stared at him. "Cancer," he finally said. "Why didn't you tell me anything?" he said, voice higher than usual as sudden tears filled his eyes.

"I did." Blaine chuckled, as hot tears filled his eyes. "I'm diseased, Kurt."

Kurt suddenly realised what Blaine was saying as he turned his head around. "I think I'm going to throw up. Blaine…"

"I'm not perfect," Blaine whispered. "I'm sick."

Kurt's stomach was dropping with every realisation of that syllable. He wasn't perfect because he had cancer, because he was sick, because he couldn't get rid of it so he denied its very existence until his ankle continued to be so severely sprained that Blaine was always limping.

"Blaine." Kurt's voice was trembling. "Seventy-two. Seventy-two days until this killed you?"

Blaine nodded his head as he smiled at Kurt softly, weakly holding Kurt's hand.

"And then," Blaine whispered, looking at Kurt's tear-stricken eyes.

"Only then, Kurt…" the smile was still curled on his lips, 'when I'll be perfect _forever_."

* * *

_**explanation/end note**: i attempted to make this as vague as possible in the beginning and show Blaine's ideal of perfection, giving it all away whilst still concealing something. what i wanted to give out in Blaine's character from the beginning is that his perfectionisms are different from what i considered normal. i wanted to lead you off to the point of body issues and potential eating disordered!Blaine or how it appears to be, and then crush it all in one single scene in the end. i'm unsure if i was completely successful with this or not. i wanted to make it appear as if Blaine's perfectionism is only linked to his body and it is - he says the problem is 'in his body' and i kept on reusing the word 'diseased', hopefully nobody took that literally and figured out Blaine must actually have some sort of physical disease._

_so babes, was i successful or not?_

_drop your notes. i love each and every one of you and am glad that you stuck by this far. even though i'm pretty sure you want to crush me by now xo Peanut Butter/Sam._


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